Sword Brothers

by Jerry Autieri

  Oskar's eyes brightened at the mention of war, but he instead stroked his beard as if in careful deliberation. "You bring many men. How can I be certain you won't cause trouble in my land?"

  "You have my word upon it. If you wish to exchange hostages, then we should discuss it."

  Waving as if he smelled something foul, Oskar said, "No, I have heard rumor that you would return, but never guessed you would come here. I am not prepared to receive so many men, but I will make you and your guests welcomed in my hall tonight. You may find a place to camp, so long as you do not take from any man's property nor harm his home in any way. I must have your word on your good conduct."

  "Of course, I give it freely," Ulfrik said. "And I am grateful for your hospitality."

  He and Oskar grasped arms and his men relaxed their stances. Smiles went around both groups, and at last Ulfrik was back in country and ready to begin his revenge. Yet he was still not at peace, for Aren should have done more to prepare for his arrival here. He had specifically asked him to travel south to negotiate with the jarls there.

  "Tell me, Jarl Oskar, has no one come to you before my arrival today?"

  Oskar's wide forehead wrinkled as he raised a brow. "Nothing. You were first spotted entering the river, and the alarm was raised. I mustered every man I could find and rushed here, guessing this would be your best landing."

  "It is the best landing," Ulfrik said, sharing a knowing glance with his sons. "I had planned to come to this land long before I set sail. I had sent messengers to warn you. I'm sorry for surprising you as I did."

  "The greater the distance the greater the chance a messenger won't arrive," Oskar said. "That's been my experience."

  "Well, no matter. I am here now. And I do not wish to be a burden to you, but I have one more favor to ask."

  Oskar paused and stared, his big eyes of faded green searching him. "You'll have to provision yourself, if that's your need. There's plenty of men that'll sell to you."

  "That is good to know, but not my need. I have something more to ask, something that would be of great interest to you and your fellow jarls in these so-called free steadings."

  "Ah, so you want to strengthen your shield wall with more warriors."

  "I want revenge, Jarl Oskar. I'm not as driven by gold as I used to be. I have found it does not keep me warm at night. The men I will make war upon will have much gold, and I should be glad to share it if men would fight beside me. For my part, I want to kill the men who ruined my name and murdered my wife."

  Oskar's smile widened. "Let's talk about it in the hall. You might have my interest."

  "I will need more than your interest alone, as welcomed as it is. I will not just take war to my old lands, but to the walls of Rouen itself. I need all the jarls to bring their spears and shields to this battle. I plan to tear down what I helped build and drown the land in blood. That is what I intend, Jarl Oskar."

  The smile fled Oskar and he nodded. Ulfrik's plans would frighten even the mightiest jarls, for even the king of Western Frankia had not dared fight Hrolf. But Ulfrik did not dream revenge in small denominations. If revenge had become his life, then it would be the grandest revenge he could imagine. He only needed the aid of glory-hungering men to make it reality. Oskar Scar-Foot and men like him were not much different from the Hedeby raiders he had lost to the storm.

  "Then we will have to gather the jarls and see how you might persuade them to your cause." Oskar pointed to the ships still in the water.

  They returned to their ships with the good news. When Finn asked about Aren, Ulfrik shook his head and said nothing. He feared his son was lost.

  CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

  Oskar Scar-Foot's hall was a meager building full of darkness and stinking of stale beer, smoke, and sweat. Six jarls and their closest hirdmen packed the hall, turning a chilly evening into a swelter. The light from the hearth embers throbbed as if gasping for breath. Ulfrik certainly felt as if he was, sitting at Oskar's right hand at his head table. He had no stage to raise himself above his men. The hall was not large enough for it.

  His wife served both of them as a sign of respect, and slaves tended the rest of the guests. Oskar's wife would have been a beautiful woman but for a wall-eye that made holding her gaze dizzying to Ulfrik. He simply held out his mug for a refill of the poor drink that accompanied the tasteless meal of venison and boiled onions. Down the table Ulfrik saw Finn chatting with Oskar's eldest daughter, who had neither her mother's bad eye nor her otherwise good looks. She was Oskar in the body of a young woman. Despite her unfortunate manliness, beside Finn she had two other men competing for her attentions. Finn was emphasizing the gold armband Ulfrik had taken from his own arm and awarded Finn for saving his life. He had done the same for the other two men who had helped him. His own arm was lighter for it, but such dedication was never to be ignored.

  "That gold has my daughter's eye," Oskar said, his breath a reeking blast on the side of Ulfrik's face.

  "It was well deserved," Ulfrik said. "I would give a dozen such rings for one more man like Finn."

  Oskar stared at him, his large eyes now red with drink. "You have that much gold?"

  Ulfrik laughed, but Oskar continued to stare at him, expecting an answer. "I have lost much of it to this disaster my enemies have visited upon me. But were it only a matter of gold to find good men, then I should do all I could to gather it. Gold buys a sword for a short time, but not a man willing to risk his own life for the gold-giver. Finn and two more of my men were so willing, and have followed me through every hardship and shame a man can endure. Gold is a poor payment for such loyalty, but it is all that I may give with my hands. The rest must be repaid with my heart."

  The circle around him had stilled at his words, and Ulfrik woke to the other men staring at him with admiration. Oskar slapped his palm on the table. "Now those are the words of a noble man! I drink to that!"

  Mugs were raised all around and they toasted Ulfrik. He suddenly wished his sons were at his side to witness the small moment of glory. However, the ships and their valuables required guards and both sons had women to entertain them. So he raised his mug and toasted all the good and loyal men in the world, which to his mind could be counted on his hands.

  "The night grows ever shorter, and we grow ever drunker," Ulfrik said. "It is time we discuss what we have gathered to hear."

  The men close by growled their approval, but outside the circle, hirdmen continued to drink, share news, and boast as men from different lands often did when brought together under a peaceful roof. It took Oskar's standing on the bench and shouting for silence from his fellow jarls. When the hall settled into a low murmur and all eyes turned toward him, he finally addressed his audience.

  "You've had enough of my hospitality tonight. Time you pay for your meals with some attention." Light laughter rippled up and Ulfrik smiled. In truth, Oskar was not a wealthy man and his insistence on holding the feast was likely beyond his means. Ulfrik regretted his disparaging thoughts of the meal Oskar had provided.

  "We all know the reputation of Ulfrik Ormsson," Oskar said. "If you're like me, then you've cursed his name and called him Hrolf's dog." More laughter followed and Ulfrik smiled placidly, understanding too well how these men felt about him. "And if you're like me, you're glad he never turned his fangs on you. If anyone has delivered Hrolf his kingdom, then it is Ulfrik Ormsson."

  The laughter grew louder, a note of tension in it. Ulfrik surveyed the faces of the audience. Most were grim and weathered by years under the sun and scarred with marks of battle. None of them were rich faces. Gold and jewels did not sparkle in the low light, as they would have in a gathering for Hrolf's men. These were hard-bitten fighters who scratched their lives out from the land one sword-stroke at a time and received little more than blood and dust for it.

  Oskar continued his speech, wobbling on the bench as he gestured to his audience. "News of Ulfrik's fall was a shock, but also expected when an ungrateful and uncaring bastard lik
e Hrolf the Strider sets himself above all others. No one is safe from a man like that, even his greatest warrior. Never shall I kneel to him, nor any man who calls himself his servant. Today Ulfrik has returned, not sworn to any man, and he has a request of us. For my part, I have heard what he asks and I like it. You will like it as well, my brothers."

  Oskar unceremoniously stepped off the bench before he fell from it. Heads turned to Ulfrik and so he stepped on the bench and spent a full minute looking over the men. The silence made many shift or look away. Those were the men he had to convince. Others held his gaze and were ready to hear the call to blood.

  "I have been betrayed. Mord Guntherson, who Oskar tells me is now sitting in my old hall, sent a man to kill me. A poisoned blade." The audience hissed at the shameful deed. "I killed the man, but not before his blade cut my wife. Even from a cur like Mord, I'd have not expected poison, and my wife died in my arms before I realized what had happened. But the treachery is not with Mord alone. Gunther One-Eye plotted to steal my land. Hrolf the Strider was cowed by Christian priests. All these men deserve my vengeance."

  The audience shouted approval and banged the tables with their fists. Not every man was so enthusiastic, but as Ulfrik waited for them to subside he noted which men still appeared reluctant. "I will not tire you with my woes. I have returned to kill Mord and Gunther for their treachery, and to tear out a bloody hunk of flesh from Hrolf's side. They are all war-weary men sitting in halls built atop their piles of gold. Hrolf cowers behind the walls of Rouen, too afraid to offend his new masters with a misstep. Gunther is bitter and blind, counting his riches in darkness. Mord is a spoiled fool who cannot hold his lands without a strong hand to protect him. There is much to take from these men, and I know how. For years I was close to them. I know their weaknesses. Join me in battle and we will take all of it. With all of our gathered strength, we could burn a path to the walls of Rouen itself. Hrolf would pay anything to have us leave, rather than embarrass himself before his new king. Think of the riches awaiting you."

  More shouting and stamping feet filled the pause. Ulfrik saw a pinch-faced man frown and around the cramped hall at least two other men did the same. When the crowd settled Ulfrik left a gap for these men to speak and was not disappointed when the pinch-faced man shouted over his peers.

  "We've all heard this before. Doesn't anyone remember Thor Gundarason? Where's he now?"

  "Thor was a braggart and barely a man," Oskar said. "And he didn't have the numbers he needed to succeed. The fool earned his death."

  Ulfrik had never heard of Thor, but did know the southern jarls had just as often attacked other Norsemen as well as their usual Frankish enemies. Hrolf and his jarls had put down a number of these raiding parties over the years.

  "Still, it is the same promise of gold and land," the pinch-faced man continued. "But the gods have settled Hrolf and his dogs into their holes and now with a castle to shield him he will never be expelled."

  "We're not talking about expelling him, Alvis." Oskar now stood beside Ulfrik on the bench. "And we're not talking about Thor Gundarason. We have Hrolf's greatest warlord to show us how to win. Thor was a boy, but Ulfrik is a man the skalds sing of in their tales of bravery. None of us have done the deeds he has, and none of us know Hrolf and his dogs as Ulfrik does. This is our chance for glory."

  "It's too late in the year to be raiding," said the pinch-faced man, Alvis. "We should be preparing them for winter. It's going to be a tough one. I just know it."

  Oskar waved Alvis's fears away like a buzzing fly. "You find one excuse after the next. You've no heart for this, so do not poison the thoughts of others."

  "Let all men air their doubts," Ulfrik said. Oskar turned with his mouth open, but Ulfrik raised his hand for peace. "While I am certain of victory, men will be maimed and men will die. Let no one join me who is not willing to face those risks."

  "We are not cowards," Alvis shouted and the two other doubting men grumbled in support.

  "I would not call you a coward. You are all jarls, and your decisions affect the lives of those sworn to you. I have nothing but respect for a man who so carefully considers his duty to his people."

  Alvis and his fellow protesters appeared mollified, and Oskar's open mouth closed. Ulfrik saw Finn smiling at him with Oskar's daughter leaning on his shoulder. He had to look away lest he laugh during this grave moment. Finn's bright red face and drunken smile brought a lift to his spirits.

  "Now let's speak of those who will dare to plunder Hrolf and his dogs. You will all take a jarl's share and portion this to your men as you see fit. For my part, I desire only blood. I take only what I owe my men, the same as yours, and leave my share to add to your own. I ask only that you leave Mord, Gunther, and Hrolf for me and my sons. Who then will dip his hand into the treasure piles of Normandy?"

  The hall reverberated with excited shouts as the men stood in answer. Oskar beamed proudly and Ulfrik smiled. Only Alvis and one of the two protesters remained sullen and seated. Ulfrik had reformed his army, however loose it would prove to be. He spoke so softly that no one but himself could hear.

  "Your last wish will soon come to pass, dear Runa. A storm of blood and death awaits our enemies."

  CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

  An army of nearly six hundred warriors marched north with Ulfrik and his sons at the fore. The land hushed as they trampled the small tracks wending through forests or along streams. The sun hid itself behind clouds and the wind refused to blow. The gods themselves seemed to hold their breaths as Ulfrik led his marauders to his old lands.

  He now stopped the march, his scouts gone with Finn to lead them in assaying the resistance Mord had prepared. When Ulfrik built this hall he had not prepared defenses against the Franks and had not looked south for danger. Oskar and all the other petty jarls never united for anything, and even now they bickered about the right approach. However, experience had taught him caution.

  "What are we waiting for?" asked one of the jarls, named Thorstein. He was a burly man with cheeks so red he looked like he had been slapped. His complexion matched his temperament, though men called him Apple Cheeks behind his back. Ulfrik had become so accustomed to that name he had to bite it back when he answered.

  "We must be certain of our attack," Ulfrik said. "We do not charge the hall only discover Mord is gone or has dug a ditch or worse. We scout first, then attack."

  "There are five of us for every one of their warriors," Thorstein said. "If he dug a ditch, we'll walk over the backs of the fallen and get him. Let's move now."

  "Don't be hasty, Ap--Jarl Thorstein. You have trusted me thus far. Trust me a while longer."

  Apple Cheeks stared at him before stomping off, waving his hand over his head and protesting to the air. Gunnar and Hakon both laughed after he was gone.

  "These men are all about running in and dying," Hakon said. "But he does have a point. We should outnumber Mord, even if he has raised more men since we left. He can't have summoned all his bondi, and the hirdmen will be at their barracks or elsewhere. This should be an easy victory."

  "Has it been easy so far?" Gunnar asked, and Ulfrik slapped his son's shoulder in agreement.

  "Exactly, this is too easy. We're a quick march from the old hall. We will have to cross the fields I cleared, but then we will be upon the hall and presenting Mord's head to his wife."

  "What are we going to do to his wife?" Hakon asked. "Should we kill her too?"

  "Why not? It would be fitting," Gunnar said. "We should take turns with her and have Mord watch."

  "None of that," Ulfrik said. "We will ransom her back to her family. I know what Mord did to your mother, and she would be the first one to cut off Mord's balls and feed them to him. But she'd not forgive the rape and murder of his wife."

  "That's not what I remember about Mother," Gunnar said, sniffing.

  "Runa the Bloody, I know the name. And I know she regretted it in her later years. I will respect her memory."

  The silence g
rew between them and Gunnar drifted to find his own crew. Each jarl had taken fifty men, leaving only a token force at home. That made the bulk of Ulfrik's troops independent of his command, though the jarls had thus far been compliant with his battle plans. Though the men were hardened and experienced, they were better suited to raiding than military action. Ulfrik winced at the noise they made, drinking and boasting to prepare themselves for battle when they should have been silently awaiting the scouts' reports. Ulfrik smelled the faint notes of sweet hearth smoke in the air. Revenge was but a short run's distance, but he had to be certain.

  Finn returned, appearing out of the woods into the flat light of the clearing where Ulfrik and his army idled. Behind him other scouts returned and headed for their own leaders. Ulfrik waved Finn closer. His freckle-faced companion still had the hood of his green cloak pulled overhead.

  "They are alert and prepared for us," Finn said before he had finished crossing to Ulfrik. "The surrounding farms are cleared and both hirdmen and his levies have formed up behind the hall. They know the direction of our approach, since they are screening themselves from our view."

  "How did he know?" Hakon asked.

  "I couldn't get close enough to the hall to ask him," Finn said, finally pulling back his hood. "But he's known long enough to summon his levies."

  Ulfrik brooded, rubbing the back of his neck as he considered how to divide his forces for the attack. "We still have more men than he does, unless he has sent to Hrolf for aid. I could send a flanking force to meet with the main body when we attack. It was always my concern with fighting in that field. The northeastern woods were thick and I did not see the need to clear it, even though it gave good cover to an enemy. That should be our approach."

  "Father," Hakon said, grabbing Ulfrik's shoulder. "You had better share your plans now."

  Half of all the assembled troops were running through the trees and heading north for the hall. Ulfrik sprang to his feet and began shouting at them. "Apple Cheeks, you stupid whoreson! Get your men back into line."